


Long Way Since

by lye_tea



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lye_tea/pseuds/lye_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorry, she's just not into you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Way Since

** Long Way Since **

i.

Small steps, Orihime repeats to herself.

Eyes darting, scanning the scene, she is smart not to attract attention. Meek, quiet, and fixed (fixated on the apocalyptic skirmish about to unfold). Can't pause now. Her pulse is racing and she's misplaced the antidote. Hastily dodging behind the closest tree, Orihime watches them with a most faithful, ardent concentration.

They are still, silent. Rukia gazes up at him, large eyes shining. Weary, she stands. And Ichigo looks into her (easily bypasses her shields). Hand quivering—hovering tight and smoldering—over her shoulder. He instinctively armors himself with a smile, but it is weak and soon dissolves.

_Like how she leaves and keeps going._

From her citadel (rough-clipped branches and brambles) Orihime stares in gaping fascination.

Tense, forging courage, Ichigo bends down to kiss her— _oh, Kurosaki-kun_ —and is brushed away. Fast, abrupt, and efficient: Rukia says something to him before breaking off clean. Before leaving him alone in the suburban sunset, muddied by smog and traffic jams.

"Sorry, Ichigo."

At that distance, Orihime catches just the tail end of their conversation, but she understands perfectly—both of them.

She knows how devastated Rukia feels and the hurricane of confusion and pain swallowing him whole. She knows that he is tender (willful) is forever chasing after an impossible (beautiful) dream.

And her heart breaks a little for him.

Only, it's not his name that squirms at the back of Orihime's throat.

It's _hers_.

ii.

His first reaction is shock, then dismay. It wasn't a rejection _per_ se, Ichigo tries consoling himself. She didn't _exactly_ tell him no. She simply…didn't encourage him. And that's what burned the most.

_Sorry, Ichigo._

Terse, professional. Rukia looked him dead in the eye and—

He can't even call it being dumped.

And he sure as hell is _not_ nursing a broken heart.

iii.

Of the three most important men in her life, Ichigo is probably the one Rukia likes best. At the very least, he is the only one who:

Has not tried to kill her (Byakuya).

Has enough guts to admit the truth (Renji).

Did not resolutely, unreasonably ignore her for over fifty years (both).

So on and so forth, the litany of grievances continues.

Ichigo isn't without faults. He's too reckless, brash, and unprepared. But by comparison, Ichigo is damnably approaching sainthood and encroaching into martyrdom (dangerous territory). He, like all pious virgins buried alive, must be skinned and sliced first.

Rukia rationalizes all of this aloud. Say it right, pronounce it true.

Because he deserves better than this (her) and even though he'll always be the first man in her heart, he's still worlds falling short—apart.

But—

sorry, Ichigo—

This isn't something she can reciprocate.

iv.

Orihime's been in love with Ichigo for longer than Rukia cares to think about (has felt it since way back when). And Rukia knows that Orihime is sad over that idiot and (this is the worst) it's partially her fault.

Leaning against the wall, sipping her lukewarm tea, Rukia thinks of how lovely Orihime is. Ladylike and demure and the total opposite of herself. So, siphoning Orihime's warmth, Rukia embraces her and notes how soft and welcoming she is.

For her, Rukia can even grit-smile and pretend she likes chocolate onion cake. And remembers why she stopped sleeping in Ichigo's closet.

v.

Rukia's hands are thin and delicate and courageous.

_Cold._

Fingers touching, hands linking, Orihime thinks that there's no one more beautiful in the world. In the pastels of an unsettled storm, unlashing its last bite, Rukia's eyes are the color of rain. Amazed, Orihime wonders what it'd like to drown in those waters.

Awful and wonderful like birthing a train wreck.

vi.

They kiss. They move. In circular patterns, Rukia's lips roam her skin.

Gasping, Orihime tilts back her head and closes her eyes. Her mind is shot dark, ringing. Echoes against a vaulted ceiling. She's seeing stars, breath is sharp. And all of a sudden, she forgets who _the other one_ ever was.

vii.

Orihime is exceptionally smart but learns new things slowly. She needs her quiet moments (private ruins) to contemplate and weigh her discoveries.

This was a good lesson:

Once upon a time, she gave her heart away. Free (discount on Sundays) and willing and painfully bereft. And it had been so vicious, so callous. So _not-what-she-expected_.

Learned:

The heart is resilient, strong, chemically fortified against the howling of poisonous luring.

She has come a long way since—

"Sorry, Ichigo."


End file.
